My Stupid Mouth
by The Faerie and The Phoenix
Summary: At last! Chapter 4!// Draco Malfoy, a Gryffindor, time potion gone incredibly wrong. . .Five minutes become thirty-five years! How will Draco cope with all of this? And can the tomboy Lily and the mischief-maker James ever find peace?
1. "Sir, what year is this?" "1961." "Oh, d...

Jessica's A/N: 

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Hi, welcome to the newest addition of one of our Lily and James stories. _The prologue takes place in third perspective (as the rest), but in Draco's point of view_. _Now, how I got 1961 is simply a matter of calculating_. _So, please read the story_. _If we get at least **five **reviews, then we shall continue_. _How's that sound? Fair? Great! Lol J Enjoy! _

The Faerie and the Phoenix, otherwise known as Jess and Britt. 

Prologue

"Today, by the request of the headmaster, we will be discussing and actually experimenting with a rare potion that sends you back in time," Snape drawled, standing before the board, long fingers clasped together as his dark eyes scanned over his class. Almost immediately they began to whisper back and forth. He cleared his throat, saying loudly with an air of authority, "Quiet, class, quiet." 

Draco Malfoy smirked as he sat by himself at a table, raising a silver eyebrow. Traveling back in time? This could prove to be _very _interesting. 

Just then, the door to the Potion Master's classroom opened, and in stumbled a fourth year Gryffindor who was a year in advance—meaning she shared her classes with all the fifth years. 

Draco didn't bother trying to hide rolling his icy, blue eyes. 

It was Melissa Jones. 

The girl had transferred from America earlier in the year, and she didn't cope too well with Britain, that was for sure. However, Draco knew she was friends with that Weasley's younger sister, Virginia. But while Ginny pinned over Potter, Melissa showed on interest in him whatsoever. 

"Miss Jones." Snape's dark eyes glinted. "What is the reason for you being late to class _this _time?" 

Melissa gasped for breath, natural tanned cheeks flushed. "P-Professor Snape, I'm sorry—"

"Quit apologizing!" he snapped. "Give me your excuse! Quickly!" 

Melissa bowed her head. "Professor McGonagall. . .Kept me after c-class, P-Professor. . ." Draco could see her bottom lip trembling. 

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor for taking so long!" Snape snarled. "Now get back to your seat!" 

Melissa hurried down the isle to move to sit by Draco—unfortunately, Snape had decided earlier that year that they would have assigned seats. 

Sighing rather loudly, Draco removed his bag from the empty stool beside him. Although he and Melissa _hated _each other, he couldn't help but wonder why she was so upset. Normally, Melissa was a cheerful person. . .What was wrong. . .? 

She slid into the seat beside him, giving him a glare as she caught him staring at her. Yet it was quick, for she ducked her head down, but not before Draco caught sight of a watery substance glazing her eyes. 

Draco frowned. Tears? Why on _Earth _was she crying? Did it have to do with what McGonagall supposedly kept her after class for. . .? 

Just then, as angry whispers began from the Gryffindors, Potter stood up. 

Snape rolled his eyes. "Sit down, boy—"

"I don't think it's very fair, sir, that you took points off for something the Professor kept her after class for!" His emerald eyes glinted furiously. 

"Another fifteen points from Gryffindor, Potter, for you and your big mouth! Now SIT DOWN!" 

Glaring, Harry Potter sat back down. He had been angrier as of late, even more emotional than usual. 

_Probably because of all the trouble Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters are giving the Ministry, especially him, _Draco thought with a smirk. _I hope Father's having fun—I can't wait for him to initiate me as a Death Eater_. _It'd only be fair_. _Those goons of mine, Crabbe and Goyle, are Death Eaters_. 

Draco's smirk withered into a frown. _Then again, Father's been a bit testy as of late_. . .

"—Now copy the ingredients down while I explain the significance of this time potion," Snape was saying, drawing Draco's attention back to the present. 

Melissa sorted through her scattered books and parchments, which were piled atop each other messily. Draco found this odd because usually, her things were neat. 

He saw a wet drop splatter on a piece of her parchment, smearing the ink there. 

"It was first discovered by. . .Draco, are you getting this?" Snape paused, linking his fingers together again. 

"Oh." He blinked, getting out a parchment and quill, along with a bottle of ink. "Sorry, sir." 

Snape nodded, then continued, pacing the front of the classroom. "It was first discovered by Headmaster Dumbledore himself. He discovered that by mixing certain ingredients together—which are written on that board—that you could travel back in time for a few minutes, and a few minutes only. Five, if you want to get specific. After the effects of the potion are were off, you would return to present time. It's complicated, it's risky, get over it—you have to try it in order to pass this class." 

Neville Longbottom gave an audible gulp. 

"Yes, Longbottom, that includes you, too." He turned to the rest of the class. "Any questions?" No one raised their hands. "Good. Copy down the ingredients and begin on the potion with the instructions I left on each table." 

Draco sighed, glancing periodically at the board as he scribbled down notes with his quill. But his blue eyes gave sideways glances, as well, to Melissa, who was bent over her parchment, quill moving rapidly; sniffles could be heard every few moments. 

Finally, the curiosity began to eat his mind alive. 

While everyone was focused on their potions, Draco turned to the Gryffindor, placing a cold, slender hand on her shoulder. "Jones, why are you crying?" He tired to keep his tone at least a tad bit soft—after all, she wasn't like to answer otherwise—but, blast it, it came out in its usual, icy drawl. 

"I'm _not crying_ Malfoy, and don't touch me." But her voice was shaky and filled with tears. 

His eyes narrowed. "Right. Whatever you say." _I'm not as cold-hearted as everyone makes me out to be_. _Sure, I want to be a Death Eater and help my father and Lord Voldemort, and sure, it's more curiosity than care for the Gryffindor that has me asking her why she's bloody crying, but _still. 

He withdrew his hand. 

In silence they began applying the proper ingredients to the potion, and Melissa's sniffles and still bent head began to grate on his nerves. If she wasn't going to tell anyone why she was crying, then could se at least stop it!? 

He ran a hand through his silvery hair, trying to keep his mind off the sniffles, but it was so bloody hard. 

_Remember, Draco, _he told himself firmly, keeping his eyes planted on the ingredient he was cutting up neatly, _you're a Malfoy_. _Malfoys focus on the objective at hand, and _keep _that focus_. 

_But which am I focusing on? _he couldn't help but think mockingly. _Her blasted crying or my God damn potion!? _

"Draco! Stop shredding the belliflower weeds!" Melissa hissed in a snappish tone beside him. 

Frowning in slight confusion, he looked down at his hands and cutting knife. Sure enough, the belliflower weeds were shredded at the tips. 

Sighing irritably, his hissed back, "Then stop sniffling." He reached into his robes, pulling out a handkerchief (when Pansy bawled her eyes out around you all the time, you always need to keep a spare one) and handing it to her. Unfortunately, he realized a tad too late that was his favorite one—Narcissa had knitted it herself when Draco was little. 

Melissa eyed it warily. "Malfoys have handkerchiefs?" 

"Oh, just take it," Draco snapped, shoving it into her hand. "And I don't want it back." 

She held it gingerly in her hands, fingers smoothing over the fine, soft emerald material with silver thread stitching it, some in the form of snakes. It was a bit worn, proving Draco had treasured it greatly. 

_But anything to stop her bloody sniffling_, Draco thought acidly, going back to his belliflower weed cutting. _It's grating on my damn nerves_. 

The next thing he knew, Melissa was holding the handkerchief out to him. "No, I'll just grab a tissue." 

"What, is it because I'm a Slytherin, and even more, a Malfoy, inflicting fear at the mere mention of it, just under the Dark Lord?" he sneered, icy eyes glinting dangerously. 

To his surprise, a brief, faint smile crossed her lips. "No. Only because I can tell this is your favorite hanky." 

He wouldn't let her place it in his hand. "Keep it." 

_I've given my handkerchief—my _favorite _handkerchief—to a Gryffindor_. _And that was bad enough_. _I won't accept anything from a Gryffindor_. _Especially something I had given_. _Because I have honor_. _Malfoy honor_. 

She sighed, nodding, and wiped her nose, then gingerly tucked the handkerchief away. 

"There is one last ingredient to add," Snape told them. He paused dramatically, then continued. "Dragon's blood." 

Again, whispers began. 

Draco raised a delicate eyebrow. _Dragon's blood? So I guess the old geezer _did _discover the twelve uses of dragon's blood_. 

"Silence!" Snape barked. "I will pass around a vial each of a drop of dragon's blood.

"For tonight's homework, look up time travel. Find out what it says on dragon's blood time travel. I want a four page written essay, back _and _front. Due tomorrow." 

Snape took a box from atop his desk and began passing by tables, giving each pair of partners a vial of the blood—well, a drop in the vial, anyway. 

As soon as Melissa had it, she popped open the cork, letting the red fluid drop once down into the potion already bubbling potion. The liquid frothed and spewed, turning a deep, navy blue. 

"So," Draco began again casually, "Why were you crying? Or, excuse me, why _are _you crying?" 

Melissa's shoulders slumped, and she said coolly, but in a half-hearted tone, "I knew my aunt was right. If we wouldn't have moved here, we would have been safe—for a while longer, at least." 

Draco's eyebrow rose again. "What do you mean?" Of course, he _did _know what she meant, but still. . .If he wanted an explanation for her tears, he had to be civil—somewhat, anyway. 

"You, of all people, Malfoy, should know why." 

Draco refrained from making a retort. 

"My aunt died from a Death Eater attack yesterday. She was the only person I truly cared about still alive. And I'm sure you can guess who led the attack—your father." She shook her head, angry tears streaming down her cheeks as she stirred the potion. "Honestly, I don't even know why the headmaster lets you attend this school, Malfoy." 

Draco, oddly enough, felt a twinge of guilt tweaking at his heart. Sighing softly, he merely nodded, looking down as he scribbled his homework assignment on a scratch sheet of parchment. 

No one saw two, raindrop-shaped tears fall into the potion. 

"Everyone finished? Good." Snape clapped his hands together. "Fill a cup of the potion, and when I call the word 'go,' drink it. Got it? All right. Go!" 

Draco picked up his cup of potion, eyeing it distastefully (it smelled horrible), then closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and knocked it back in one gulp. 

The feeling afterwards was almost indescribable. 

Immediately, Draco felt a pull around his navel, sort of like what happened when you used a port key, except this was much different in many ways. A black void loomed into view, wind whistling past his ears, and his bangs fell into his eyes. Stars spread out like they would if you were traveling at hyperspace, and the void pulled Draco in by the invisible string around his navel. In the background as he spun down a misty trail of rainbow colors, he heard a clock ticking. It rang in Draco's ears until he was ready to yell, and he realized he was when his voice grew hoarse, his throat aching with pain. 

_Tick, tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock_. 

"Draco!" Voices of his past sounded, going as fast they had come. "Draco, now look at what you've done!" 

"Malfoy," Potter's voice sneered. 

"Malfoy! Leave him alone!" Granger. 

"You mudblood." His own. 

"Son, I am ashamed of you." His father. 

But tears didn't come—they never did. He was a Malfoy. Malfoys didn't cry. 

"Malfoys don't cry, son." 

And then everything was rapidly spinning, mixing together, and, just as suddenly, it was all gone, and Draco found himself in Headmaster Dumbledore's office. 

"What? Why? Huh? How?" Draco panted, looking around wildly as he sat in one of the headmaster's chairs. And then he caught sight of the person across the room from him, leaning casually on Dumbledore's desk—the headmaster was nowhere in sight. "_YOU!_" 

The boy with jet-black hair looked up, startled, but just before he could open his mouth to speak, Draco cut in again. 

"Potter!? What are _you_ doing here?" 

Potter frowned. "Yes, I'm Potter." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "What's it to ya?" 

And then he noticed something odd. 

Potter had no lightning bolt scar on his forehead. 

"What. . .?" he whispered to himself. "Potter? Where's your scar?" He closed his eyes and then opened them again to make sure he wasn't seeing things. 

"Scar?" Potter gave him a funny look. "What scar?" 

And he noticed something else odd. 

Potter's eyes were a chocolate brown. . .not green. 

"That's not Harry." 

Startled, he looked to his side. 

Melissa sat in the chair next to him, brown eyes wide. The words had come out in a mere whisper. "D-Draco?" Her voice was shaky. "My aunt. . .Aunt Jessica. . .She had a picture on her mantelpiece. . .and that boy. . .he was one of the people in it. . ." 

Draco's eyes widened, as well. _This is odd_. . ._Okay_. . .He swallowed. _I'll admit_. . ._This is getting freaky now_. . .

-_Tell me about it_-

Draco and Melissa looked at each other in surprise. 

And screamed. 

Abruptly, the door to the office burst open, and in walked Dumbledore himself. "James, thank you for waiting. I—what on Earth?" His blue eyes looked between Draco and Melissa curiously, twinkling in bewilderment. "And who might you be?" 

Draco suddenly started laughing, earning stares from everyone. Tears of helpless, ironic mirth streamed down his cheeks. "Okay, I'll say it right now—I've never laughed at a joke. But Professor. . .Potter. . .Melissa. . .Whoever else is on it. . .I'm impressed. . .You got me good. . ." 

-_Malfoy_. . ._If this is a joke_. . ._how come I can read your mind and vice versa? That's considered impossible-_

Draco immediately stopped laughing, paling considerably. "S-Sir? W-What y-year is t-this?" he asked in a squeaky, un-Draco-like voice to Dumbledore. 

"1961." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh, dear God." Draco closed his eyes and slumped in the chair in a faint. 

* ~ * 


	2. "I'm free, I'm free, I'm free! I'm FREEE...

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Jessica's A/N: _Hihi_. _Anything you don't understand this chapter, **trust **me, it'll be explained next chapter_. _M'kay? Now onto the thank yous!_

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Kaylee: _I'm glad you think it's original ^_^o I hope this satisfied your need for more, lol_.

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Hayley Mills: _Well, I hope this humor is enough for you_. _Lol, I'm glad you like DracoXMelissa right now_. 

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Maggy d: _I'm glad you think it's good_. 

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Liz the Laugh: _You're welcome! ^_^_

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The Lady Sorcha of Sevenwaters: _Well, now you get to know what happens next, don't'cha? ; ) _

sCHEm: _I'm glad you think so! Lol, I like the idea of Draco in the MWPP years_. _Can you blame me? . _

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Tom: _Egh, is this fast enough? @.@ _

Oh, where is the fan art for BWTDT, peoples!? I'm serious about what I said the reward was! C'mon, I'm **really **looking for it! Don't be shy! 

Egh, and you'll have to excuse me for the grammar errors I've looked over on accident—been so busy lately! But, no worries, not busy enough for you guys : ) 

As always, please remember to review. _And, as always, please gimme at least **five **reviews_. _I don't want to beg_. _A lot of you reviewed BWTDT, now didn't you? Yes! Don't think you shouldn't review because you already see five or more up there_. _Confidence gives us the courage to go on! You just don't understand! Plus, I have **a lot **of stress, because an editor is looking over one of my books (trust me, it's **good**_). _So_. . ._So_. . ._Yeah! Thanx for reviewing_. . ._And remember_. . ._The more the reviews, the longer it takes to get out—reviews urge us to get it out quicker_. 

-The Faerie and the Phoenix 

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This chapter is dedicated to sCHEm. 

Thanks for all your heart-filled reviews. We really appreciate them! : ) 

Chapter 1

"Draco? Draco, hello? Draco, wake up!" 

Draco's eyes blinked open slowly. "Unh?" 

He saw three blurry figures around him, and one of them was calling his name repeatedly, slapping his face gently. He shook his head, trying to clear the haze shrouding his vision, sitting up. Feeling dizzy, he placed a hand to his forehead. 

"Oh, thank goodness!" It was Dumbledore's voice. "We were worried there for a second. I thought I was going to have to use _Enervate_." 

As the shapes became sharper, Draco saw all three had their wands out and pointed at him, posed and ready. 

"Are you all right?" came the concerned voice of the Potter look-alike.

"I'm fine. Now who are you and how did we get here?" Draco snapped angrily, his blue (grey in his anger) eyes flashing coldly.

The look-alike (Draco, in his mind, called him Potter Wannabe) cast a slightly confused glance to the other person across from him. "Uh. . .Professor?"

"James. . ." Dumbledore's voice spoke calmly. "Perhaps it will be best if you left us now?"

"B-But—!"

"_Now_," Dumbledore said firmly. 

"Oh, bloody—" Harry Wannabe caught himself. "Yeah, all right, fine." As Draco heard his footsteps recede, he distinctly caught him muttering under his breath, "Missing out on a detention, dammit."

Melissa frowned, leaning forward, pressing a hand against Draco's slightly clammy forehead. "Malfoy—"

He swatted her hand away in irritation, squirming in his seat. His mother did that, and it made him feel extremely uncomfortable—now, with a Gryffindor, no less, was no different. "Stop. I'm fine. Could you just answer my question, please?" 

Dumbledore, he could now see, also leaned close. "Miss Jones told us from what time you were—1996." 

"Yes," Draco agreed slowly, raising a delicate eyebrow, slumping down further in his seat—oddly, Dumbledore's look was intimidating. 

"Where were you last?" Dumbledore asked gently, his bright, blue eyes glinting in a curious way.

"We were in Potions class, and Jones and I had to do this spell that was supposed to send us back in time five minutes. . ." He trailed off, then continued. "Whatever will Snape say to this? Even more important, what will my father say?" Draco asked more to himself than to the others, his brow furrowed in worry.

"Malfoy, who gives?" Melissa asked impatiently, tapping her foot. "I doubt Professor Dumbledore will care about your father—or, for that matter, Snape."

"Snape? Do you, perchance, mean Severus Snape?" Professor Dumbledore asked solemnly.

"Yes, we do. Why?" they said in unison, then glared at each other, eyes flashing threateningly. 

"Curious," Dumbledore muttered, stroking his beard, which still had some auburn hairs in it. "Quite curious, that Severus Snape should become a professor. Tell me," he said, turning to them, "Who is headmaster in 1996?"

Draco began to say something, but Melissa interrupted him. "You, sir. And you're also quite respected." 

Casting his nemesis a sharp look, Draco finished quite rudely for her: "They view you as the very image of safety, and as thus, they think their children are safe under your care, which is not true. A student, just last year—"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Melissa hissed. She didn't particularly want Dumbledore to know about Cedric, for some odd reason. He couldn't start grieving years before Cedric was born—that, and if they were truly in the past, would be ruining the events of history that needed to transpire. 

Not that they weren't ruining it already. 

"No!" Draco hissed back.

"Do you want to be unconscious again, Malfoy?" Melissa growled, raising a fist and shaking it at him.

"Not really," Draco answered coldly.

"Then don't tell him!"

"Hmph." Sniffing the air in a snobbish manner, Draco waved his hand for Dumbledore to continue. 

-_What are you? Some kind of reincarnation of a James Bond villain?-_

Who? 

-Never mind. _Just never mind_- There was a pause. -_Idiot-_

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What'd you call me? 

-Nothing- Another pause. _-Idiot_- 

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Pot de moutarde, Draco's thought sent.

-_What did you just call me_?-

__

A jar of mustard in French.

-_And why did you call me that?-_

Because you reminded me of one, came Draco's prompt thought.

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-Of a jar of mustard?-

Yes._ Such a smart little birdie!_

-Shut up, Malfoy-

_Hahaha_. Within his mind, Draco's laughter was cold. _Make me_. 

-_Oh, I'll make you Mr_. _'Pot de moutarde_.' _I'll take my wand, ram it up your ass, and knock you into next week!-_

"Ahem." Dumbledore cleared his throat. "But either you two stop calling each other _pot de moutarde's_, or I'm going to have to assign you both a detention once we get this business all cleared up." 

Melissa blushed furiously while Draco scowled. 

The former looked at him in curiosity, titling her head a little to the side, her brow furrowing, the stubborn line showing as it formed. "How did you know what we were thinking? Do you read minds?" 

_Well, no shit, Jones_. 

-_Eat glue, Malfoy_-

_Huh? What's glue? _

-Eat it and then maybe I'll tell you- 

Professor Dumbledore looked gravely at Draco. "You wouldn't want to eat it, I'm afraid. I tried it once, in my younger years. It stuck in my throat in a most dreadful way."

Melissa laughed. "Professor Dumbledore! Why would you want to eat glue? I mean, you're not like Bill Gates or someone."

"Who?" Professor Dumbledore and Draco asked at the same time, totally bewildered.

She sighed theatrically, rolling her eyes to heaven as if to ask, _Why was I stuck with this bunch of idiots?_ "He's this Muggle guy who started making computers for people last year. He's already quite famous, but he was one of those kids who ate glue and crayons and stuff."

"Crayons?" Draco asked curiously. "What're those?"

"Muggle objects that children use to color with."

"Oh." Draco felt really stupid now—which never happened, usually, because he was a Malfoy.

-_Good_._ You _should_ feel like that_._ And get used to it_-

"Miss Jones, be kind. It appears you two are going to be the only ones from your time here, until we find the antidote. Did he tell you what the name of this potion was?"

"He said it, but I can't remember it," Melissa said, thinking hard, a frown on her lips. 

"It's odd, but neither can I," Draco agreed, perplexed. A Malfoy ought to remember everything told to him, or so his father would say. Like his father abided by that rule. His silver eyebrows furrowed much in the same way Melissa's had moments earlier, his own stubborn line showing. How come he couldn't remember anything. . .? 

Dumbledore sighed. "This is not good." He clapped his hands together. "Until we figure out how to send you thirty-five years back in time, I'm afraid you'll have to attend school here as fifth years." Reading her thoughts, he added, "And Miss Jones, I know you're a fourth year, but at this day in time, we do not have advanced classes." He smiled, eyes twinkling in amusement. "You'll have to make do." 

Draco cleared his throat. "Just how, sir, are you going to explain our appearance?" 

Dumbledore's smile widened. "That, Mr. Malfoy, is quite easy. You will be new students attending the school as transfers. If anyone asks, just reply that you are Draco Vinnins and Melissa Crater. As you see, we already have a Mr. Malfoy and Miss Jones in school—confusion would arise." 

Melissa nodded in understanding. "So, we'll have to try on the Sorting Hat again?" 

"Precisely." Dumbledore chuckled. 

Draco cast him a suspicious look. "What about that other boy?" 

The headmaster waved his hand impatiently. "Oh, he'll say nothing. All I have to do is call him up here—"

"Already here, Professor!" 

Everyone looked up to see Harry Wannabe leaning casually on the doorframe as soon as he opened the door, crossing his arms over his broad chest—he had the build as if he had been playing Quidditch for a couple of years. Dark eyes flickering between Draco and Melissa, he once again pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You can trust me." 

Dumbledore cast him a stern look, clasping his hands behind his back. "Mr. Potter, what have I told you about eavesdropping?" 

The boy gave the professor a sheepish look. "Uh. . ." 

*~*~*~*~*

"Brittany! Brittany, come quick! Look!" a fifteen-year-old girl cried, brown eyes glimmering with excitement as she hurriedly swept her chestnut brown hair back into a braid, letting it go, the tips brushing against her waist. 

Brittany Aston frowned, walking down the steps far slower than one of her two best friends had, stopping once she was in the common room. She placed her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow. "What on Earth is all this ruckus about?" 

A young man with incredibly messy black hair was tied to one of the plush chairs before the fire, wand nowhere in sight, black eyes smoldering with hatred. "For the love of God, untie me right now you evil she-devil!" 

He was looking at the girl standing before him. 

She had short, red hair, close-cropped and curly. Her emerald eyes were just as angry as his, and her legs were spread on the ground in a manly way, proving she was indeed the tomboy she looked to be. Sirius' wand was held in her hand, posed and ready to strike out at him. 

"NOW, LILY EVANS!" 

She smirked, eyes flashing, and shook her head, exiting through the portrait hole of the common room. No use sticking around here. 

"Sirius," Brittany sighed, shaking her head. She wasn't one for nonsense, which was a slight disadvantage for being friends with the Marauder.

_Marauder_. 

"Mmm. . ." Brittany pressed her lips together into a thin line. Only Dumbledore knew it, but she was able to read minds—or at least, Sirius Black's mind. She didn't know why, and Dumbledore and Sirius didn't either, yet it was vice versa for Sirius, as well. It had happened sometime back in their third year—unknown to Dumbledore, as this was a very well kept secret, Brittany had been chasing Sirius after curfew because he had taken her wand. They had stumbled into the third floor corridor, which was a place for things Dumbledore wanted to keep secret from everyone else. There, there had been some sort of ancient butterfly and Sirius and she had looked it directly in the eyes—stupid enough as that was. And since then, there had been some kind of connection. Of course, when they explained this to Dumbledore, they had left out the part about the corridor, although they had suspicions that Dumbledore knew about it—he knew about everything most of the time, almost as if he, too, could read minds. 

_Probably could_, Sirius sent her. _Now would you mind untying me, or do I have let you get close enough so I can manipulate you with my manly charms_. 

Brittany smirked—Jessica had gone back upstairs, probably studying for something or other. _Mr_. _Black, you have high hopes for things that will never happen_. 

__

I've chased after you for four years—ever since our second year. _I swear, my sweet Ms_. _Aston, that there has never been another one for me_, he thought in a sugary sweet tone, a guileful smile on his handsome face. 

She laughed. _You really need to shave—I can see the stubble forming_. _Gosh, only in your fifth year, and already you have to shave_. 

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Hey! he protested vehemently, _I'm not the only fifteen-year-old in the world who shaves! Honestly, woman, get your facts right! _

"Keep talking like that and I'll leave you there to suffer until the next person comes along—which won't be for a while, seeing as it's almost time for dinner." 

A smug look crossed his features. _Oh, come now, Brittany, I'm not talking—I'm thinking_. 

She scowled, placing a hand on her hip. "You know what I mean!" 

__

Do I? 

"Ugh!" With that, she threw up her hands in disgust, storming out of the room after her best friend. 

"HEY!" Sirius cried, tugging weakly on the ropes—normally, this would be simple to get off, but, considering the fact that that hateful Lily Evans had charmed the ropes, simple was a word that he craved for. "LET ME OUT OF THIS!" 

Brittany casually lifted her middle finger before she exited the common room. 

"Well, that was lovely," Sirius snarled. "HASN'T ANYONE EVER TAUGHT YOU MANNERS!? Hmph!" 

*~*~*~*~*

"Is there a reason you're tied to the chair, Black?" Curious brown eyes peered down at him as a messy black-haired head tilted slightly to the side, hands in pockets. 

"Does the word(s) she-devils mean anything to you?" 

"Uh. . .Is it supposed to?" 

Sirius sighed. "Yes, Potter, it is. Are you completely oblivious?" 

"Yes, well, when you ramble on under your breath for half an hour with me standing here watching, it begins to scare me—I don't have time to wonder what she-devils are, as I'm more concerned about your health." 

"Hmph! Evans and Aston." 

"Ah." 

"Mind introducing us?" a new, cool voice asked. 

Both looked up to see a young man, about their age, standing there, hands in pockets, as well, blue eyes flickering in the little light of the common room. It had to be around ten, and as it was, it was snowing outside, meaning only the fireplace was a source of light. 

"You two are kind of. . .odd looking together. Are you best friends?" A girl stepped beside the boy, raising an eyebrow.

"Who are you?" Sirius asked, still a bit out of it. His stomach ached—it had to have food. As if on cue, a loud growl rumbled through the room. 

"Uh. . ." 

James laughed. "I'll explain later, Black. How bout we get you undone, and you go up to bed? I'll follow in a minute." 

"Okay." 

Moments later he was finally free. 

And so he proved.

"I'm free, I'm free, I'm free!" Sirius cried, running around the room, arms flapping at his sides. "FREEEEEEE!" 

"Oh, Lord, I knew letting him loose would be a sin. . ." 

"Shut up, Potter," Sirius sneered, scoffing. "Just because you're my best friend and like a brother to me—" here, he sniffed "—doesn't mean you can treat me like that!" 

James waved a hand dismissively. "I'll explain everything in the morning. G'night, Sirius."

He yawned, stretching, shirt lifting to show well-toned muscles, as if he played a sport, maybe Quidditch. "Nighty nighty! Don't let the bed bugs bite!" 

"Are you three?" 

"I like to pretend." 

"M'kay then. . .Good night, Padfoot." 

Again, he yawned. "Nighty nighty, Prongs." 

*~*~*~*~*

  



	3. "If you're trying to hurt me. . .It's no...

__

Jessica's A/N: _Whew, another long chapter, eh? Enjoy @.@_

Special thanks to PrincessLesse ^_^

-The Faerie

Chapter 2

*~*~*~*~*

**__**

Two figures could be seen in the faint light of the moon that flowed into the astronomy tower. One was about a head taller than the other, dressed in long, flowing robes, his silver hair almost shinning. The other was shaking as if from anger, fists balled up at her sides, long, brown hair framing her heart-shaped face. 

"Malfoy, I cannot _believe _you told the Sorting Hat to place you in Gryffindor." 

Draco raised a silvery eyebrow. "What's it matter to you anyway, Jones?" His father had told him long before school started that the Sorting Hat would place you wherever you wanted to be. Right now, in this time, he wanted to be in Gryffindor—with Lily and James here, it was bound to do good for the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord once he got back in his own time. 

And some part of him. . .Some jealous little part he was ashamed of. . .actually wanted to be in Gryffindor. . .to be great and respected. . .just like Potter. . .

Draco shoved those thoughts aside—he was Malfoy! And so he would uphold his family honor by acting like one. 

"What's it matter to me?" Melissa hissed, taking a threatening step forward. "Der! It matters oodles to me!" Her hands flew up in frustration. "You're a Slytherin! Knowing you, you have some tricky plan up your sleeve!" 

"Does being a Slytherin offend you that much?" Draco sneered. "Maybe I want to be in Gryffindor for a good reason." Yeah, so he could tell his father and the rest of them the secrets he had learned from being in this time. 

Melissa's eyes narrowed. "Malfoy, I can't read your thoughts." 

He hid a smug smirk—she didn't know it, but during dinner earlier that night, he had been practicing trying to block his thoughts from her. As in, keeping them hidden away in his subconscious where she couldn't reach them. He had to admit: His plan was working so far. 

Keeping his face an emotionless mask, he retorted smoothly, "Why would you want to read my thoughts anyway, Jones? They're probably too dark for you to handle—especially how my father killed your aunt. I knew all about it." 

When pain flashed across her face, he told himself he felt no trickle of guilt—he really hadn't known about it, but it was something to hurt her, something to let her know that even though they were stuck in this time together, they weren't friends. 

"Malfoy," she began slowly, "no wonder no one likes, or better yet, loves you. You're too cold-hearted even for your two goons. They're probably only your friends because of your money—or, because they fear you and your name." She straightened. "True friends come from the heart, true friends come from being nice and considerate and compassionate. You are none of these things." 

"If you're trying to hurt me," he replied in his calm, cold voice, "it's not working." 

But later, when he would stare up at the canopy of his temporary bed, unable to sleep, the very truth of those words would plague his thoughts relentlessly. 

"Of course not." Why was her voice so quiet? "Nothing hurts the great Draco Malfoy—he's almost not human." 

His eyes narrowed, blue eyes glinting—he rarely felt anger, and the only ones who could really cause it were Jones and Potter. "Take that back," he growled lowly. 

"I won't," she whispered back, brown eyes unable to be read. Even her thoughts were well guarded—she must have been practicing on that, too. 

Draco reached within his robes for his wand, pulling it out, pointing it at her. "Don't tempt me." 

Melissa merely continued to look up at him. 

After a few moments, he realized his hand was shaking. Cursing himself softly, he replaced his wand again, then stood with his hands curled up loosely at his sides. 

Without a word, she turned on her foot and left the astronomy tower, heading back for the Gryffindor common room—Harry Wannabe had given them the password earlier. 

Scoffing, Draco climbed up onto the windowsill, rolling his shoulders to let his robes cover him fully as he shivered a little from the cold. 

"When I get back, Father," he spoke softly into the crisp, night air, looking up at the moon as snowflakes continued to drift down slowly, "I'll be the greatest Death Eater the Dark Lord's ever had. You'll be very proud of me." 

But why, he couldn't help but think, would he think he was proud now when he never had his whole life? 

*~*~*~*~*

_"Draco, now look what you've done!" Lucius Malfoy roared, grabbing his son roughly by the arm_. _He gave him a harsh shove, letting the boy fall to the floor and slide a few feet before stopping_. 

__

"I'm sorry, Father," Draco whimpered, tears streaming down his cheeks. _He hiccuped, continuing in a broken-hearted tone, sniffling, "I didn't mean to break your favorite vase_._" _

"Do you know what that cost me!? Do you have any idea at all!?" 

Draco winced, crying harder now, the scrape on his knee from his fall throbbing, adding to the pain he was filling—physical and _emotional_. _"I didn't mean it! Honestly, Daddy! I didn't mean it!" _

"Don't call me Daddy! You are a Malfoy! Refer to me as Father! I am your father, not your daddy! Do you understand me!?" Lucius picked the boy up again by the scruff of his robes, giving him a harsh shake, causing his teeth to clatter. 

__

"I'm s-sorry!" he wailed. _"I didn't mean it! I d-didn't! Why won't you believe me!?" _

"Because you're a poor, pathetic liar!" Lucius' breath reeked of wizard alcohol, and splotches of red appeared on his normally pale, angry face. _"Malfoys don't lie!" _

"D-Daddy—"

"Don't call me that!" He shoved the boy down again. 

__

Narcissa, who stood at the side, watching with horror-filled eyes, began to step forward. _"Lucius—"_

Lucius landed a harsh slap to his wife's face. _"And you, you whore, you stay out of this!" _

Tears filled her eyes and she backed away, hand pressed to her cheek tenderly, nodding. 

__

Draco continued bawling at the sight of his mother being treated in such a way. 

__

"Stop crying!" Lucius gave him a slap, as well. _"Malfoys don't cry! Can't you get that through your thick, stupid head! Malfoys do not cry!" _

Draco sat up with a start, breathing coming in harsh, ragged turns. Cold sweat bathed his body, making him shiver from the already cool temperatures of the dorm room. He bent over, burying his face in his hands, the dream, no, nightmare of the past all too vivid for his tastes. 

"Malfoys don't cry," he whispered, trying to get a grip of himself. "Malfoys do not cry." 

But, for the first time in years, tears pricked at the back of his eyes, burning. 

Inhaling a rattling breath, he slumped over and sobbed quietly, no one awake to hear his pain. 

*~*~*~*~*

"Hm. . .Looks as if he had a rough night." James looked to Sirius. "Wonder what happened." 

Sirius shrugged. "Probably couldn't sleep. Who could blame him though?" With James being his best friend, the boy had already told him that the boy and the girl were from the future. However, as they had wandered over to Draco's bed and found him half off it, drool coming out of his mouth, hair mussed, snoring loudly, James hadn't had time to finish explaining as they had quietly laughed at his state as not to wake the others. 

"Yeah." James nodded. 

"Potter," Draco abruptly mumbled, accompanied by a particularly angry snore. 

Sirius' eyebrows raised. "Uh. . ." 

James held up his hands. "Man, don't ask me. I have no clue." 

"Me neither." Sirius suppressed an amused smirk. "Perhaps we should wake him now?" 

"Nah. Let's let him sleep—if he keeps on muttering my last name like that, I have a feeling that I don't want to be the one to wake him up." 

They stood up, heading towards Peter Pettigrew's bed. 

"Oh, because of that time when Moony was having that nightmare, and he kept on crying, 'James! Get out of my way!' and when you woke him up, you were almost strangled to death?" Sirius asked as he drew the curtains from around their friend's bed.

"Exactly that." 

"Can't blame you either, then." Sirius chuckled, bending down to rap lightly with his knuckles on Peter's head. "C'mon, Wormtail. Get up, or I'll club you with my stick." 

James frowned. "How the bloody hell can you club someone with a stick?" 

"I don't know—watch." 

Peter, squealing, opened his watery, blue eyes, blinking up at Sirius. "Oh, it's just you, Padfoot. You scared me."

"Dare I ask?" Sirius cast James a solemn look across the room before rolling his eyes. The boy always had had odd dreams—it didn't help that he was a coward when you got right down to it. But he was a friend of Moony's, and so they let him stay in their group and become one of the Marauders. 

"Well, I was being chased around suddenly in my nice dream of cheesecake by a large stick. . ." 

Sirius patted the boy's shoulder. "Well, don't you worry! We'll get the one who dare attacked Wormtail's cheesecake!" 

Peter laughed, roundish face allowing its dimples to show. "Thanks, Padfoot. You made me feel better." 

"Oh, no problem." Sirius waved his hand, looking straight ahead solemnly. "I shall hereby do my best to avenge cheesecakes all over the world—except yours, of course. You like to eat them." 

As Peter and Sirius fell together laughing like two idiots, James opened the curtains to Remus Lupin's bed. "Moony! Get your lazy ass up before I have to do it for you!" 

A pillow was immediately thrown in his face.

James sniffed the air distastefully. "You know, that was quite rude, Moony." 

"Your wake up call was no better," came the returning deep growl. 

"Perhaps we should call you Moody instead of Moony?" James suggested, raising an eyebrow. 

"Go to hell," Remus grumbled before rolling over.

"Yep, that settles it. Moony is the grouchiest person to ever walk the planet." 

"Just the planet? Try the whole entire universe! One time I woke him up and I had a black eye for ages!" Sirius sniffled, pretend tears he had practiced on back in their third year forming. "And he only came here at the beginning of this year." 

"Oh, I know!" Peter at last sat up in bed. "Mayhaps we go and get Jessica to wake him up." 

Immediately Remus was out of bed, brown hair with a few gray streaks disheveled from sleep, but his brown eyes alert and wary. "You wouldn't!" 

"Knew that would do it," Peter chuckled. 

It was common knowledge that Remus had had a crush on the girl ever since he had first laid eyes on her. Sirius and the others teased that it was 'true love,' but Remus protested. After all, there was no such thing as love at first sight in his opinion, but Sirius didn't agree with that, along with James. 

"You three are _horrible_." 

Sirius chuckled. "We know, Moony, we know." 

"_Horrible_," he repeated. 

James clapped a hand on his shoulder, nodding. "Yes, and why don't you tell us how horrible we are on the way to breakfast?" 

"What about that Draco boy? Won't he get lost?" Remus asked, letting James lead him towards the bathroom so he could get changed. 

"Eh, I'm sure he'll manage." 

"Potter. . .You bastard. . .Potter. . ." Three angry snores.

Remus' eyes narrowed suspiciously, placing his hands on his hips as he turned towards James. 

Prongs offered a sheepish smile. "I know nothing." 

"Then why do you look so guilty?" 

"Uh. . .So anyway, Moony, how bout that breakfast?" Sirius asked loudly. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm famished!" 

*~*~*~*~*

"Should we go in there?" 

"I don't know. That's where the she-devils reside." 

"Thank you, but I'll be happy to say that Jessica is not a she-devil." 

"Yes, well, you don't have a say as you're madly in love with her." 

"I am not madly in love with her!" 

"Yeah, so, anyway, are we going in there or not?" 

Abruptly, the door to the girl's dormitory opened, causing Peter, James, Sirius, and Remus to stumble forward at her feet. They looked up, saying in unison, "Wuh-oh." 

"It's the she-devil!" Sirius whispered, his cheek plastered to the floor as James was sprawled over his shoulders and head.

James shifted, causing him to accidentally crush Sirius in the ground, and he ignored his friend's "Ow! Ow! Ow!" "So, Lily, my sweet, my love, the flower of my heart, the jewel of my soul—"

"Shut it, Potter," Lily growled. 

"She-devil!" Sirius whispered again. "You she-devil!" 

Lily rolled her eyes. "I am not a she-devil, Sirius."

"Only you could perform such gruesome deeds," Sirius continued. "Because why? You're a she-devil!" 

"Get up. Now." 

"Yes'm!" Sirius immediately fell back to the floor, groaning from James' weight. "Okay, maybe not. Prongs, get your heavy ass off me!" 

"Eh. . .That's Peter." 

"Wha?" 

"Yes, I moved just a minute ago, cause Peter was on me." 

"Where's Remus?"

"Somewhere. . ." 

"What do you mean somewhere!? Where is he!?" 

"On the floor with the rest of us?" 

"Gr. . ." 

"I'm right here!" they heard Remus cry wheezily. "I'm under Sirius." 

"Oh. Sorry." 

"No problem. I think I have a broken rib or two, but no problem." 

"Nothing that Madam Pomfrey can't fix!" Peter replied cheerfully.

"That's easy for you to say, you're not under two people!" Sirius retorted.

"Yeah, but you're not under _three_," Remus pointed out. 

Lily yawned. "You guys finished yet?" 

"Yeah." 

"Pretty much."

"Can't. . .Breathe. . ." 

"Suffocating. . ." 

"What are you doing here in the first place?" 

"We—"

"Uh. . .What are we doing here?" 

"Yeah, I'm kinda lost on that one, too. . ." 

"James? Do you know why?"

"Um. . .Because we were going to wake you up?" 

"Wrong answer." 

"Wuh-oh!" 

"Get off me! I want to run!" 

"HELP!" 

"AHHH! OH MY GOD! THE SHE-DEVIL IS GOING TO KILL ME! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! RUN!" 

"Sirius. . ." 

"Yeah?" 

"You okay?" 

"I'll be fine. . .One day." 

"Lovely." 

"Perfect." 

"Hahaha. I can't breathe. I'm starting to see stars. Is it bad that I'm dizzy?" 

A wand was pointed down at them.

"RUNNNNNN!" the four cried, standing up, but before they could move an inch, they stumbled over each other again. This time Remus was on top, then Sirius, then James, then Peter.

"Ah. Fresh. Air," Remus gasped.

Sirius groaned. "Not again!" he wailed.

"Ugh." With strength they didn't know she had, Lily closed the door, moving each of them back into the hallway.

"James?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Is it bad that we're back to where we started in the first place?" 

"Shut up, Sirius. Just shut up." 

"Would anyone care to carry me to breakfast?" It was Remus. "I think my ribcage is bruised. . ." 

*~*~*~*~*

"And so in the end we accomplished nothing!" Sirius told his group of fans. 

James rolled his eyes over his oatmeal. "Some people just can never stop bragging." 

"Tends to happen when you have the ego the size of the Great Hall and a brain the size of the peanut." Remus smirked, lavishing his toast with butter.

*~*~*~*~*

"Get up." 

"Go away, Jones." 

"Nope. You've been staring at that wall for the past hour or so. . ." 

"And?" 

"Malfoy. . .C'mon. If you're going to be a Gryffindor while we're here, you better act like one." 

"Are you calling me a coward, Jones?" Draco rolled away from staring at the wall, looking up at her. She sat on the side of his bed, dressed in casual clothing she must have borrowed, as it was Saturday.

"I didn't say that." She smirked. 

Draco shook his head, closing his eyes. "I'm tired. I don't feel very well. _Go away_."

"Draco. . ." She hesitated, then continued. "I'm sorry about what I told you last night. . .I didn't mean it. . ." 

"Of course you didn't, Jones. You're a Gryffindor, and better yet, a poor, pathetic little girl, whining because her aunt died at the hands of a Death Eater—la di da." 

"Never mind." Melissa stood up, glaring furiously, fists clenched at her sides. "Forget it. I'm going—I hope you're happy." With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the dorm.

"Oh, _trust _me, I am!" Draco shouted after her. 

It wasn't until the door slammed, the sound echoing throughout the almost empty room, that he noticed she hadn't said 'Malfoy' while trying to apologize to him. She had said 'Draco'—like a true apology would acquire. 

"Damn Gryffindor," he muttered before rolling back over again, tears forming again at the thought of the truth in the words she had told him. Only one day and already he was acting like a sissy—this was not Malfoy behavior. 

"Fuck Malfoy behavior!" he shouted before throwing a small vase holding some sort of winter flowers placed there no doubt by the House Elves at the far wall of the room. He watched with only small satisfaction as the fragile clay pottery broke and scattered to the floor in a thousand little pieces. 

*~*~*~*~*

__

Preview of the next chapter: 

"Studying too hard again?" 

She looked up, startled, only to see warm, brown eyes watching her. "Oh, Remus," she breathed. "You scared me." 

He chuckled, taking a seat next to her, ceremoniously moving some of her books out of the way. "I see that." 

"Where's your friends?" 

"Back in the Great Hall, eating like a bunch of. . .wild animals." 

She smiled faintly, turning back to her work. "Yeah, that's typical." 

"Lily particularly moody lately?" 

"Well, as it happens, she's always moody, so, my friend, you're going to have to be more specific." 

A faint blush colored his lightly tanned cheeks. "Moodier than usual, then." 

"Yep." Finished with her Potions essay, she folded up the parchment and stuck it in her Potions book—she wasn't really that organized. 

"Hm." Remus raised an eyebrow. "Thought you would've taken more care of that." 

She shrugged. "Professor Hector doesn't really mind if I do or not, as long as I get it done." 

"What kind of parents name their kid Hector anyway?" 


	4. “And *this*—” glaring, as well, she kick...

Jessica's A/N: _ Alright, back by popular demand * cough cough* I present to you Chapter 3 of our lil book here_. _And listen up! For just a PROLOGUE, I got more attention at Astronomytower than I did here! What kind of bogus is that!? Huh!?* **almost breaks her wand in half, she's so pissed off** * Neways! Please enjoy the story ¬¬ Thanks, Kaylee, I knew you'd understand ;) (why? Because she's a loyal **REVIEWER!**) Neway! Onwords! _

Chapter 3

Draco Malfoy.

His name was Draco Malfoy.

No. His name was Draco Vinnins.

_Remember that_. _Draco Vinnins_.

"Draco! Oooh, you're so cute!" 

"Draco! What's your last name? I bet it's as sexy as your first name," purred a fourth year.

"_Vinnins_," he spat out rather rudely as he shoved his way towards breakfast. God, where had all these Gryffindor girls come from? Didn't they need to get their beauty sleep? Honestly!

"Oh, hmmm. . .You know, we've got a small little dance coming up 'round Christmas. . .Want to go with me?" A fifth year latched herself onto Draco's arm, reminding him all over again of a certain Pansy Parkinson. 

"I'll think about it." 

The first one who had spoken, a _sixth _year, pressed a light kiss to his cheek. "Well, while you're thinking about it, would you like to escort me to breakfast?" 

"Um, no. I've really gotta—"

The fourth year giggled. "How about escorting me then, Draco Vinnins?" 

"Eh, no, that's okay, I mean—"

The fifth year hugged his arm tighter, and he felt it slowly going numb. "Sooo, Draco, tell me. . .When do you want to go to the dance with me—"

"I never said I'd go," Draco corrected, "I said—"

"Uh, excuse me, people, ladies, whatever you are, but I need to speak to Malfoy, I mean, ahem, _Vinnins_, alone." 

Draco and the others whirled to see Melissa there, arms crossed over her chest, tapping her foot impatiently. 

"_Now_."

"Right." Draco nodded, relief sweeping through him. "Yeah, so uh, you girls," he said loudly, "better get out —she will uh take her wand and stick it up your ass and—"

"Okay, fine," the girls pouted. "We're going." And one by one, all batting their lashes, they left.

"Thanks," Draco breathed to Melissa before he could stop himself. 

She raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, brushing past him. "Don't worry about it, Malfoy." 

"Oh, so now I'm Malfoy again?" He cast her a dark look, eyes glinting. 

"I thought that's what you wanted to be called. . .Malfoy." And before he could open his mouth to reply, she turned and walked out of the common room. 

*~*~*~*~*

Jessica sat in the library, books surrounding her, eyes scanning over the words as she scribbled down on her sheets of parchments. She pushed her hair out of her way, the strands falling out of its messy bun, and felt her hand beginning to ache.

Sighing, she sat back in her chair, rubbing her sore hand. "All this damn homework. . ." she muttered under her breath, before picking up her quill again. She needed to get next week's essay over and done with. 

"Studying too hard again?" 

She looked up, startled, only to see warm, brown eyes watching her. "Oh, Remus," she breathed. "You scared me." 

He chuckled, taking a seat next to her, ceremoniously moving some of her books out of the way. "I see that." 

"Where's your friends?" 

"Back in the Great Hall, eating like a bunch of. . .wild animals." 

She smiled faintly, turning back to her work. "Yeah, that's typical." 

"Lily particularly moody lately?" 

"Well, as it happens, she's always moody, so, my friend, you're going to have to be more specific." 

A faint blush colored his lightly tanned cheeks. "Moodier than usual, then." 

"Yep." Finished with her Potions essay, she folded up the parchment and stuck it in her Potions book—she wasn't really that organized. 

"Hm." Remus raised an eyebrow. "Thought you would've taken more care of that." 

She shrugged. "Professor Hector doesn't really mind if I do or not, as long as I get it done." 

"What kind of parents name their kid Hector anyway?" 

She laughed, the sound sweet to his ears. "I don't know." 

"It was hypothetical, Jess," he teased.

"Oh," she replied, blushing now, as well. She hit his arm playfully.

"Well, um. . ." He stood up abruptly. "I've uh. . .I've got to go. . ." 

"Okay." She frowned. "What's wrong?" 

He took a few, deep breaths, saying quickly, "JessIdon'tthinkwecanbefriendsanymore." 

She blinked. "What?" 

"I. . .I don't think, Jess, that we can be friends anymore. . ." 

"O-Oh." 

"I've got to go. . .Bye." And with that, he rushed out of the library.

Jessica stared after him, hurt, eyes watering, and wondered what the hell had just happened. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"You eat too much." 

Melissa shrugged as Draco stared at her as she gobbled down a piece of toast. "Your point?" 

"How can you eat that much and yet maintain your skinniness? Is there some kind of secret or something?" 

"High metabolism." 

"Yeah, that'll do it." Draco frowned, wondering why it felt different to sit at the Gryffindor table rather than at the Slytherin one. Was there some sort of pride for sitting with the Gryffindors? Pride for being a Gryffindor now himself? How would that change when he went back to the future and became a Slytherin again? Wouldn't, somewhere in a deep part of him, he still be a Gryffindor? 

He sighed, closing his eyes, and stirred his oatmeal around idly, not really paying attention to what he was doing. Maybe it wasn't pride—he felt that for sitting at the Slytherin table, for being a Slytherin. 

_Don't lie to yourself_, he thought, opening his eyes halfway, hand quitting its circular movements of his spoon in his food. _You didn't feel pride_. _You felt shame_. _Because pride consists of knowing you're doing something right in your views and feeling proud of it_. _How can I be proud of the thousands of deaths each day caused by my father? How can I be proud of knowing that I, too, want to be a Death Eater? I can't help it! He's got it so drilled into me that I can't even think of having a life without so much secrecy, without so much evil, without so much God damn killing! _

All I wanted when I grew up was to have a normal, loving family. _Was that too much to ask for? Instead, I was stuck with a father who drank and participated in evil doings_._ A mother who was too scared to stand up to her husband, afraid that he would kick her out and she'd have nowhere else to go because her own parents were ashamed of the Ravenclaw who married one of the most feared Slytherins_. 

_I wanted to be friends with Potter—just once, I could have my own bit of fame_ _that would consist of good doing_. _But no, he chose those poor, pathetic Weasleys over power_. 

_Maybe it is all my fault_. _Maybe if I just wasn't so_. . ._so_. . ._concerned about damn Malfoy honor_. . .

Under the table his one free hand tightened into a fist. _Father, one day I'm going to kill you_. _I'm going to kill you for doing this to me, you heartless bastard_. 

This resolved, he lifted his spoon to actually take a bite out of his oatmeal when Melissa stood from the table. Raising a delicate eyebrow, he asked, "Where are you going, Jones?" 

"Um. . .I haven't seen my aunt since I got here. . .She wasn't even here last night. I asked that girl Brittany and she told me Aunt Jesse was studying." Melissa laughed, a blush gracing her cheeks. "Man, that's not even like her now. She always collects those weird things and is a total party girl. It's hard to believe she would study." 

Draco considered this, studying his oatmeal again. _There's a lot missing_. . ._Maybe we can find out what happened in Harry's parents past that changed everyone in the end_. . ._And then I can tell Father_. . .

He let the thought trail off as he sighed, lifting the spoon to his lips, taking in the warm food. "Alright. Is there any place you want to meet before we go and see Dumbledore and that Potter Wannabe so we can discuss how to get back to the future?" 

"Oh, that was today, wasn't it?" She smiled. "Sorry, kinda forgot." 

Draco let out a long, weary sigh. "Well?" His patience wasn't usually at its fullest today. In fact, it was close to just plain out zero tolerance for anything. 

"How about by the lake?" 

Draco cast her an annoyed look as he placed his spoon down again—he wasn't really hungry anymore. "Why there?" 

She shrugged. "Well, I thought that after I met up with my aunt—that's if I can find her—I'd go take a read by there." She frowned a little. "Is that a problem, Malfoy?" 

"No." He stood up, bowing his head, continuing to avert her eyes. "It's fine." 

She reached out a hand, touching his forearm through the robes with just a gentle brush of fingers. "Are you okay?" 

"Don't touch me," he whispered, the words barely audible. "I don't like to be touched." 

Slowly, albeit reluctantly, she withdrew her hand. "Sorry I asked," she mumbled. 

"Hn. I'll meet you by the lake in a couple of hours. If you're not there, I'll warn you right now—my patience is pretty thin. It won't be pretty when I find you." 

"I'll keep that in mind, Malfoy." Her eyes narrowed. 

"And keep it down, will you?" he hissed. "No one is supposed to know my last name is Malfoy." 

She gestured around. "There's no one in the Great Hall but us. What are you so worried about?" 

"I. . .I don't know. I just. . ." He shrugged, turning to walk out of the Hall. He paused when he was right beside her, looking at her from the corner of his eye. "There's something odd. I can sense it. Don't ask me how. . .But there's bound to be a reason why Potter's parent's past is so secretive, right?" 

"I-I guess." She swallowed, staring straight ahead. 

"Good. We'll talk more on it later. Just find out all you can for now until I meet up with you again." 

"Why?" she spat out angrily. "So you can go back home and tell your father secrets that'll help You-Know-Who? I don't think so." 

A smirk crossed his lips. "You know, I would have figured, Jones, that you would have referred to the Dark Lord by his real name—Lord Voldemort. Scared?" 

She bowed her head, bangs hiding her eyes from view. "You would be scared, too, Malfoy, if the only person that you cared about still alive died at the hands of the most feared Dark wizard to ever walk the earth. Especially if they were a powerful witch or wizard." 

He turned to her then, narrowing his eyes, but she kept on looking straight ahead, side facing him. "What are you talking about?" 

"We'll talk later." She turned and started out of the Great Hall, not giving a glance back.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lily walked down the hallways towards the Gryffindor common room, yawning, blinking tired, green eyes. She really hadn't gotten much sleep last night, what with waiting for her good friend Jessica to get back from the library. 

Lily Evans would best be described as a tomboy, but not terribly so. Even though she hated makeup and dresses and the like, she still had her feminine side every once in a while. 

She was short for her age, but average in a way, and her short cropped red hair actually suited her. Her green eyes were entrancing when they weren't smoldering with that tireless fire that always lit him, directed towards the Marauders the most.

She had had her share of beating up boys, along with her share of detentions, but other than that, her record was clean.

Lily stopped, however, in the middle of a particularly deserted corridor that only she and, most likely, the Marauders used. 

Was it her, or did a rustling sound of footsteps just pass by? 

Eyes narrowing, now fully awake, Lily bit her lip and quickly and quietly moved into the shadows and a small corner, peering behind the stone wall, alert and ready. One hand moved down to her wand sticking out of her pocket, only to find it missing. 

Lily gasped, then covered her mouth with her hands. 

Where was her wand? Had she left it back up in her dorm in her trunk? But no, she _specifically _remembered placing it in her pocket. Could someone have taken it earlier at breakfast? Not likely—everyone had been too busy shoveling food into their mouths. What about that Potter and his friends? No, they weren't stupid enough. Definitely not. 

She swallowed. 

That only meant one thing. 

Someone had taken her wand. And it wasn't any of the Marauders. 

She froze. There it was again. That sound. That rustling of footsteps on the floor. 

_Who's out there? _she thought. 

Her blood ran like liquid ice through her veins, and her breaths came in short, uneven gasps. 

"That Potter boy," she heard someone whisper faintly and immediately tried to calm her breathing—she didn't need anyone to hear her. "And those two new kids. . .Something's suspicious. They might interfere with our plans." The voice was silky deep. 

"Hahaha, you've got to be joking." This one was feminine, high and annoying to Lily's ears—she never did care for those ditzy sounding girls that had the laughs that could make you run your nails down a chalkboard. "Dumbledore wouldn't let anyone harmful into the school." 

"I never said they were harmful." A rustling of robes, and the first voice took on an irritated tone. "To the school, that is. They'd be harmful to us. And besides—aren't we harmful?" 

"Mmm, that's beside the point, dahling," the second voice purred. 

"Keep your hands to yourself," snarled the man. "Have you found it yet?" 

"The necklace? Unfortunately, no. Do you have any idea who would carry it?" 

"It wouldn't be Potter—it's a girl's necklace." 

"Right. And keep in mind that there are plenty of girls in this school." 

"It wouldn't be a Slytherin girl—they would have handed it over already." 

"True." The second voice was thoughtful. 

Slowly, Lily began moving closer along the wall, biting her bottom lip again, not daring to breathe, trying to hear more. 

"Potter—keep an eye on him." 

"Will do." 

"We need him for—"

Lily's foot twisted in her trailing robes and made a sharp scuffling noise. She froze once more, eyes going wide. 

"Did you hear that?" the first voice hissed. 

Lily closed her eyes, staying absolutely still, chest heaving up and down as she fought to keep from yelling out and running as fast as her legs could carry her. 

"Is someone here?" the second voice whispered cautiously. 

Slowly, the footsteps began coming towards her hiding spot, and the closer they came, the louder they were heard, and the faster Lily's heart pounded against her ribcage—she was sure anyone could hear it. 

Closer. . .Closer. . .

She began to see faint outlines of two figures as her eyes snapped open again. 

And then, there was a pause. 

"I don't see anyone. We should leave, though, before someone _does _actually find us." It was the second voice.

"Yes, all right. Let's go." 

And the two figures turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

Lily waited until the footsteps were gone completely before she collapsed against the stone wall, letting out a long, yet quiet breath, closing her eyes. Swallowing seconds later, she came out of her hiding spot, looked both ways, then scurried off towards the direction of a more direct route towards the common room for Gryffindor. 

Two shadowy figures watched her leave from another corner farther down the hallway. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Did you see your aunt?" 

"No—no one could find her anywhere. Pretty odd, isn't it? It's as if Fate is telling me I shouldn't see her just yet." 

Draco looked up at the sky, hands in pockets as a soft breeze blew through, rustling his hair a little. Off in the distance, dark clouds full of rain rumbled, lightning streaking across the surface of them. "You believe in Fate?" 

"Up to a certain extent." 

"What about coincidences?" He cast a quick look down at her, then back up as if he had done no such thing.

He missed the short-lived small smile that crossed her lips as she closed her book. "Not really, no." 

"So, like, you don't believe that it was a coincidence that the potion took us back in time farther than it was supposed to? That, technically, it screwed up?" He bowed his head, staring out at the water beginning to lap faster against the sandy shore—the storm was coming quickly. 

She leaned forward, chuckling a little. "I don't believe that it's a coincidence that the potion screwed up—I think that Fate caused it to happen. What, don't you?" 

Draco sighed softly, but it was lost on the now whipping winds that beat against his legs, causing his robes to twirl around them. "I don't believe in coincidences—or Fate." 

"How can you do that? I mean, how can you not believe in either one of them?" Intrigued, she raised an eyebrow, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

"Well, for starters," he began, casting an uneasy glance up at the sky again—they should be getting inside soon—"Fate is just something that's way too easy. I don't like the thought of not having control over my life, you know? And then, with coincidence, that's just way too easier than Fate. Nothing's coincidence." 

"Then if nothing's coincidence, it's planned out somehow." 

"Not exactly." He lifted a delicate eyebrow. 

She bit her lip in puzzlement. "I don't get you, Malfoy. You're really confusing me." 

"Yeah, well, I seem to confuse a lot of people," he muttered under his breath. 

_"Son, you're a liar! How can you sit here and lie to me about that when you know you're going to get a good beating for doing it!?" _

Shivering involuntarily, he turned to Melissa at last, keeping his face emotionless. "Give me an example of your Fate and coincidences." 

Melissa sighed, shaking her head, and sat her book beside her on the ground. "Take love at first sight." 

Draco's eyebrow raised again, a smirk dancing across his lips. "I knew I was handsome and dead sexy, but I must admit, I never thought I'd meet someone so damn bold." 

She laughed, grabbing a handful of grass and throwing it at him. "Oh, don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. You know that's not what I meant." When he nodded, eyes flickering, she continued. "Love at first sight—_way _too easy. I mean, how the Hell can you be in love with someone at first sight? You haven't even come to realize yet your true feelings, nor do you even know the person. A woman, or man, knows when they give their heart away. Right?" 

Draco crossed his arms over his broad chest, eyes dancing with mild amusement. "Well, not that I don't agree with you or anything, but you can't control what your heart does, who it falls for—love is something unpredictable, uncontrollable." 

"Then you do believe in Fate." She tilted her head to the side.

He raised a finger, the smirk never leaving. "Not exactly. Love is something on its own, has nothing to do with Fate. Just because you can't control how you feel, that doesn't necessarily mean that Fate has a part in it." 

"Then you're saying love is Fate." She giggled, then immediately realized she never giggled and stopped. 

"No." He cast her an annoyed look. "I'm _not _saying that." 

"Malfoy, then what are you saying? You're giving me a migraine." 

Abruptly, rain began to splatter down to where they stood, or rather, sat, and thunder rumbled above them. 

He sighed. "Look, I'll explain later. Right now we have to go have our daily meeting with Dumbledore so he can tell us if he's found anything out." 

"Right." She nodded, grabbing her book. 

Turning on his heel, hands still in his pockets, he strolled off in the direction of the castle. When it began raining harder, he gritted his teeth and started to run. 

Muttering incoherent things, Melissa helped herself up and ran after him. When she finally caught up with him, slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed, she grabbed his arm, turned him around, and kicked him hard in the shin. 

"OW!" he yelped, glaring furiously, shivering as the rain soaked through his clothing and to the bone. "What the bloody Hell was _that_ for!?" 

"For your manners!" She kicked him again in the shins. "And this is for your foul mouth!" 

"Woman, stop hitting me!" he shouted, cheeks flushed now from his anger—no one outside the family line hit a Malfoy and got away with it. 

"And _this_—" glaring, as well, she kicked him right between his legs "—is for not using my name and treating me as if I'm on a lower status than you." Harrumphing, she turned and stormed off towards the warm, dry safety from the rain, otherwise known as Hogwarts. 

Draco, muttering every curse word he knew under his breath, not wanting to give her the benefit of his pain, swallowed it all back and limped after her as best he could. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So, Angel, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?" 

"Eek, James, come on, I know there are better pick-up lines out there than that." 

"Ugh, sorry, Sirius, I'm trying my best." 

"Well, try harder!" 

"Okay." James, standing before a sitting Sirius—who was currently batting his lashes flirtatiously and seductively, of all things, on a couch in front of the fire—sighed and nodded. He cleared his throat, straightening, and tried again. "Do you work at the Owl Post, baby, because I saw you checking out my package." He flashed a charming grin that would cause girls to melt if they ever saw it—which he was careful not to let happen. The smile, anyway. 

Sirius rolled his eyes and fell over. He waved his hand dismissively. "_Pathetic_. Please. Just go away." He waved his hand again. "Tata." 

James' shoulders slumped. "But, Sirrrriussss," he whined. 

"NO. It's _Siri_. _Siri_. Siri the French babe." 

"Oh, my God. Sirius, people are starting to _stare_," he hissed. 

"Well, when you ask out Lily, what do you expect to happen?" 

"Something not along the lines of, '_Lil_. _Lil_. Lil the flower.'"

Sirius nodded. "Good point." 

James sighed, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. "Exactly, Mr. Black!" 

"But still—it could happen." 

"ARGH!" James threw a pillow at Sirius, who caught it, grinning. 

"For a Keeper, you sure do throw like shit." 

"Bite my fucking ass, Sirius." 

"Sounds tasty." 

"Ugh! You are _impossible_!" 

"Come on—I'm not serious." 

"Sure you are," James snarled, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

"Well, okay, technically, I am, but still!" 

"May you rot in Hell, Padfoot." 

"And may your fucking ass always be there to haunt me, Prongs." 

"I'm going to bed." James was already heading towards the stairs that led up to their dorm room. 

"When it's nearly lunch?" Sirius laughed after him. 

"Fine then: I'm taking a _nap_," James growled, stomping up the stairs. 

"I don't even know why you want to ask Lily out, Prongs! She's a she-devil! All she's done is beat the shit out of you!" Sirius yelled after him. 

James could practically feel every eye on him. "Yes, well, you know the plan, Sirius." 

"Oh. The Plan. _The_ _Plan_." Sirius placed a hand to his heart, rolling his eyes heavenward. He made his fingers into quotation marks. "We can't forget 'The Plan.'"

James just ignored him, and a resounding slam could be heard moments later as the fifth year boy's dormitory door almost flew off its hinges. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Why do I get the feeling I was just being discussed?" Lily asked as she walked into the common room, every eye on her. 

Sirius blanched, then quickly stood, bowed, made a cross sign with his hands, and ran as fast as he could in the direction of his dorm. 

Raising an eyebrow, she shrugged, asked rather loudly to the quiet residents of Gryffindor Tower, "Anyone seen Jess or Britt?" 

They all pointed either towards the direction of the girl's staircase or the exit of the common room. 

"I'm guessing Jess is at the library and Britt is upstairs," Lily muttered under her breath. She told the others, "Thanks," and headed up in the direction of her dorm. 

She sighed wearily, still confused about her wand. Who could have taken it? And more importantly, the voices she had heard talking kept plaguing her mind. Should she tell someone about it? Particularly Dumbledore? But. . .That could lead to trouble. . .She might have just been imagining things. . .Dumbledore wouldn't let anyone harmful into the school, right? 

She swallowed, an uneasy feeling persisting at the back of her mind. She felt clammy, and sweat was forming along her brow. Beneath her long-sleeved shirt and jeans she was hot and sticky. 

What would anyone want with Potter? Was there something about him that no one else knew? If so, Dumbledore would have done his best to keep it quiet—it wasn't likely that anyone would find out about it. Or maybe Dumbledore didn't know? Lily shook her head. That really seemed unlikely. 

Then again, trouble had been stirring up in the past year or so, and deaths had begun to happen, sending the world of happiness the wizards had just begun to cherish into chaos. The Ministry, from what she had heard from Brittany (her cousin worked there) was up to their heads in murders and killings. 

Lily hugged herself to ward off a sudden chill.

Most of the victims had been Muggle-born wizards and witches. 

Lily was a Muggle-born witch. 

She forcefully reminded herself that she was safe as long as Dumbledore ran the school, looked over it. After all, he wouldn't let any harm come to them, right? He loved every single student that resided within the school. 

She laughed it off softly—she was just jumping to conclusions. 

But the two people talking. . .

Abruptly, just now realizing she had stopped in the middle of the staircase, she remembered Lucius Malfoy at the beginning of the school year. He had to be a seventh year about now, but it didn't matter—the cool, handsome young man had taunted her relentlessly this year, and yet she had no idea why. 

_"All you Mudbloods will die, and Lily, you'll probably be one of the first to go once Dumbledore falls to the uprising Dark Lord," Lucius snarled to her in the train compartment on their way to Hogwarts_. 

"Oh, yeah, Malfoy, and who would that be?" Lily snarled back, glaring furiously, hand gripping her wand within her robes—_she had just changed_. 

_"He is known as Lord Voldemort_._"_

"Lord Voldemort," Lily whispered to herself. _I really need to talk to Dumbledore_. . .

Sighing, shaking her head, she walked the rest of the way to her dorm, then knocked lightly on the door, afterwards stepping back to wait for a few moments. When no answer came, she nodded to herself and walked in. The occupants of the room had done this since their first year, taking into mind that one of the others might be changing or finishing up a diary entry or even making out with someone, even though McGonagall prohibited that. 

Brittany sat on her bed, sighing, scribbling things down, looking over notes and certain passages in the open books propped up around her. 

"It's only Saturday, Britt—and nearly lunch." 

Brittany cast her a cool look. "Yes, well, you'd be studying extra hard too if Professor Hector was on your ass all the time." 

Unfazed, Lily shrugged, then remembered what she had come up here for—usually, she preferred the outdoors to the stuffiness of the castle. "Have you seen my wand?" 

Brittany paused in her work, drew out her own wand, muttered, "_Accio wand_," then continued reading a paragraph on the eclipse setting of a butterwing potion that would cure small wounds caused by a werewolf, yet not cure the werewolf blood now in the person itself if bitten. "Honestly, Lils, can't you keep up with that thing?" 

Lily opened her mouth to reply, then thought better of it and shut it. Didn't do good to mess with the girl when she was in a particularly bad mood. 

Her wand soared over to her, landing in her outstretched palm as she reached for it. She vaguely noticed it had come from the direction of the bathroom. 

She chuckled nervously at the back of her mind. _See, Lils, nothing to worry about_. _You simply left your wand in the bathroom when you were in such a hurry to get to breakfast earlier this morning_. 

Then there was the other thing she had come here for.

Sighing, Lily asked softly, "Britt, do you or Jess own some sort of necklace?" 

Brittany shook her head no, pushing her reading glasses up her nose, not lifting her eyes from the book. "Not me. . .But I think Jess had this odd one she told me she received from her grandmother a couple of years ago before the woman passed away." 

Lily could feel her blood freezing again. Shaking her head and forcing herself to take a calm breath, she continued to ask two more things, "Is Jess in the library? And if she is, how come you're not in there studying with her?" 

"She's in there, alright. But, knowing her, she's probably taken up the whole entire table by now. Besides, it's kinda peaceful in the dorm at the moment." 

"Right." Lily nodded, then sighed and headed for the door. "I'll be back in a while. Want me to sneak you up some lunch when the time comes?" 

She looked over her shoulder to see Brittany nod, then absorb herself in her books once more. Sighing again, she headed out the door and towards the library. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	5. “I wish I could send you back to your ti...

Chapter 4

Melissa sighed, staring blankly at Dumbledore as he clasped his hands before him on the desk, looking at them gravely over his half-moon spectacles. After a minute of wanting to cross her eyes, she looked over to the sleeping portraits of the past headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. One actually snored rather loudly, causing Melissa to snort herself as she quickly covered her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing outright. Drool was coming from the old headmaster's mouth, and the man's cap was halfway off his head. An old headmistress abruptly woke up and walked into the headmaster's portrait and smacked him upside the head with her own witch's hat. 

Dumbledore's voice drew her from looking at the portraits and back to him again. Her laughter withered at the expression on his face.

"Unfortunately, with what little resources I have here in my office, I have not yet discovered anything that might be of help. I would have checked the library today, but it seems a lot of people have been sending in letters about the recent killings caused by the man known as Lord Voldemort." 

From the corner of her eye, she saw a smirk cross Draco's lips then wither before Dumbledore could see it.

"Tomorrow I will go down on the library and see for myself what information we have. We can't let others besides Mr. Potter and I suppose Mr. Black know of what time you come from. That would rupture history greatly." 

__

Oh, like say, Melissa thought privately to where only Draco could hear, _Malfoy suddenly gets mad and tells James and Lily that they're getting married and having a son called Harry and neglects to mention that he somehow conquers the Dark Lord_. 

Draco stiffened in his chair, eyes narrowing, but Dumbledore seemed not to notice. 

"I'm sorry that I cannot find information for you sooner." Dumbledore sighed, bowing his head. "I wish I could send you back to your time immediately, and once I discover the antidote I will.

"Have you no idea of what ingredients were in that potion?"

Draco shook his head. "No, sir, we do not." 

Melissa found her mind oddly blank as she tried to think of what exactly had been in that potion. She couldn't remember what Snape had written on the board about the name of that potion, nor could she remember anything else. She only remembered crying about her aunt and having a heated argument with Draco and then taking the potion. She told the headmaster as much.

Dumbledore sighed once more, nodding. "Yes, I see. Maybe that will prove useful information anyhow." He lifted his gaze, a touch of a smile on his lips directed towards her. 

Somehow she felt a tinge of disappointment at the back of her mind, and so she looked to Draco, only to find him slumped down in his chair. 

__

What are you thinking about, Malfoy? she thought. And, of course, he didn't answer, as was predicted. Slightly disappointed, although she knew she wouldn't get anything out of him, she turned to direct her gaze back at the professor. 

For some, unknown reason, she remembered talking quietly to Harry in the Great Hall after everyone had left. He had been sympathetic, explaining that he was truly sorry and that he sort of knew how it felt, but she hadn't known what he was talking about. Until McGonagall had told her of her aunt's death, she had been absolutely clueless. So did that mean that her professor had told Harry about it? 

Sighing herself, bringing a hand up to massage her temple, she shook her head. Her thoughts were getting all confusing. But thinking about her best friend Ginny and remembering the kind Harry Potter who seemed modest about his fame, as if he didn't actually like it too well, warmed her heart. 

And then she reminded herself bitterly that she was stuck in the past with her arch nemesis, so far with no way out. Lovely. Just fucking bloody da-di lovely. 

__

Now I'm starting to think like a British person. _I mean, I am British, it's in my blood, but I grew up an American_. She gritted her teeth. _Malfoy, I just want you to know_, she directed at him, _that you're a _horrible _influence on me_. 

She saw a smile curve his lips, very faint, and it didn't reach his eyes. 

-_Thank you, Jones_. _It's always a pleasure_ _to send the evil ways of Draco Malfoy unto annoying people such as yourself-_

Her eyes narrowed. _Just forget it_. _Just fucking forget it_. _Holy freakin' dirt bucket_. 

Draco raised a delicate eyebrow, a flicker of amusement dancing within his eyes. "Holy dirt bucket?" 

"No," she sneered, feeling uncomfortable as usual around the silver-haired young man. "Holy _freakin'_ dirt bucket." 

"You two stop fighting," Dumbledore told them, but his eyes twinkled. He sighed. "I think perhaps you should probably go now. Meet me tomorrow at this time, alright?" He smiled lightly, staring up at the ceiling, which in a way, they supposed, was a sign of dismissal. 

Casting Draco a contemptuous glare, she stood up, harrumphed, and stormed out of the room, borrowed clothes from that girl Brittany just a bit loose on her skinny form. 

__

Honestly! she thought as she hurried down the revolving staircase that led up to the headmaster's office. _He is so impossible! You have a decent conversation with him a few times, and then it's as if he shoves all the kindness back in your face and makes you regret you ever held any compassion towards him_. _I don't know what I was thinking—Draco's nothing more than a stupid, egotistical, bigheaded, _Malfoy. _There is no inkling of kindness in him whatsoever!_

__

Melissa watched Draco reach into his robes, withdrawing a beautiful handkerchief, and hand it to her. _Slightly cautious, she eyed it warily, asking, "Malfoys have handkerchiefs?" _

"Oh, just take it," he snapped, but he didn't look at her. 

Melissa sighed. _I know that somewhere deep down, Draco's an honest, good person_. _I just thought maybe since we were stuck in this together, he might've viewed it like we were comrades, that maybe we could become friends_. _I don't know what I was thinking_. 

She bit the inside of her lip. _Stupid Malfoy_. Tears were welling up at the back of her eyes, burning, but she swallowed and forced them back. _Stupid, _stupid_, Malfoy_. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As Draco met up with her at the entrance to the headmaster's 'headquarters', he noticed a tear fall down her cheek, sparkle in the little light offered, then splatter on the stone ground, just before the Gargoyle jumped aside and let them pass. 

Before she could do as much, he grabbed her arm, though it wasn't too gentle, and yanked her back. "Why the Hell are you crying now? Jesus Christ, that's all you do: cry. Cry, cry, cry. I'm Melissa Jones, and I consider it my duty to annoy Draco by just crying my bloody eyes out!" His voice had risen to a shout near the end of his tirade of sorts. 

He missed the hurt look that glimmered in her eyes, then quickly vanished as she schooled her face into one of pure venomous hatred. "Release me right now, Malfoy. Just like you, I prefer not to be touched," she snarled, trying to yank her arm away, but his grip tightened harshly. 

Somewhere, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was about to tear whatever fragile bounding of being stuck in this together had formed. "Listen here, Jones: I won't put up with your sissy act! Either you tell me why you're crying and suck it up, or you just suck it up!" He gave her a little shake. "And yeah, now that I think about it, I like the latter better! I don't want to know what you're crying about this time! Just bloody suck it up!" This really wasn't out of his character. After all, he truly acted like this, but somehow, it just seemed. . .different. As if Melissa was the only person he knew in this time, which was half-half as it was, and they had to form a team, but he was ripping it to shreds.

__

Then again, he thought sourly, _there never was the word 'team' when it came to us this past day or two_. _We are nothing but enemies, and we only had a few civilized conversations, which was necessary, considering the fact that if we didn't, we would tear our own selves and each other to shreds_. 

"I'm crying about you, Malfoy!" she shouted through her tears, the Gargoyle having long ago jumped back into place. 

That caught him a little off guard. 

Frowning, masking his face to where it remained emotionless and stony, he demanded, "What are you talking about, Jones?" 

"Never mind, Malfoy," she spat, finally yanking her arm away. "That Gargoyle—" she gestured to it "—is more human than you are. It has more feelings than you do. I feel really sorry for you just thinking about it." 

That hit him home.

He grabbed her arm again, yanking her forward, shoving a finger just before her face. The momentary glimmer of fear in her eyes gave him a bit of satisfaction, but it was dulled by his anger rapidly growing to a height of where he would soon lose his well-practiced control. All this girl did was rile him up! It was just not right! But that wasn't what was bothering him. 

"I," he panted, the exertion of saying this so coolly, so slowly, and without raising his voice taking a lot out of him, "don't want your Goddamn pity, girl." 

"Well, suck it up!" She raised her hands, placing them against his chest, and with strength he hadn't imagined she had, pushed him back a few steps. "Because let me tell you something, Malfoy. Let me let you out of the dark. Let me crawl up your ass and shine a fucking flashlight." She took a deep breath, visibly calmed herself down, then said in the same tone of voice he had just used, "All anyone does is feel sorry for Draco Malfoy. You have no friends. They only stick with you because, as I've said before, they cower in fear of your name. They want your money among other things, _or _they just—" and she added the last part with as much truth to the words and as much coldness she could muster "—look at you and wonder how the Hell could you not feel sorry for a boy who is so cold. A boy who looks down on others and treats them like a wad of crap, just because they aren't rich, just because they don't like you, or just because you're all alone and they and you know it." Finished with her accusations, she pivoted on her foot, fists balled at her sides, and stormed off in the same way she had left Dumbledore's office minutes earlier. 

Draco stood in stunned silence, watching her leave, wondering vaguely why it hurt so much to know what she had said had been too true. 

He sighed, burying his face in his hands, then ran a shaky one through his hair, letting out a frustrated growl. 

Damn her. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jessica was a girl who didn't really like to study, but knew if she wanted to keep top-of-the-notch grades, she had to do as much. She loved to read, however, so it wasn't so bad. 

She was around the height of 5'5", with freckled cheeks and a freckled nose and warm, brown eyes. Her hair was long and mostly straight, sometimes wavy, falling down to her waist. 

And she didn't understand that after how close she and Remus had grown as friends during the year that he would suddenly _not _want to be friends anymore. To her, that just seemed unreasonable without at _least _an explanation, and, being the stubborn girl she was, she was going to get one. 

She found him, by observing through a window in a high tower, that he stood outside in the middle of the current storm, head bowed, chin-length hair plastered to his face. His robes clung to him, revealing a skinny, bony, yet a little muscular form. 

__

You haven't been eating too well again, Remus, she thought as she swallowed, braced herself for the chilling of the rain, and ran outside towards where the young man stood. 

"Remus!" she shouted, but she couldn't be heard over the roaring winds and loud thunder above. Cautious of the lightning striking in forks across the sky not too far from her, she cursed under her breath and attempted to continue running across the field to catch up with him. 

"Go away," he told her firmly once she reached him, looking away, off towards the Forbidden Forest. 

She shook her head, absolutely soaked to the bone, and placed a hand on his forearm. When he flinched, she withdrew it out of respect for his feelings. "Remus, why don't you want to be my friend anymore?" 

"It's storming out here, Jess," he told her in a cold voice that truly didn't seem to be his own. "Go back inside." 

"Come with me," she retorted, trying to make him see reason. "If you're going to catch a cold, or even worse, pneumonia, then I'll catch it with you." She managed a faint smile. "That's what friends are for, right?" 

Finally, he turned to face her, pointing towards the direction of Hogwarts, or maybe not any place in particular. "We're not friends." 

"No." When he only blinked, she gripped the front of his robes, giving him a little shake, blinking furiously to clear the rain from her eyes. "I won't allow you to tell me that without an explanation." She sniffed, raising her chin indignantly. "So spit it out, Lupin." 

He sighed, exasperated, and shook his head. "Jess, go back inside. It's pouring. I want to be alone." 

"What if you get struck down by lightning?" 

The question was so absurd, seeming out of nowhere, entirely off subject in a way, that he laughed. But it faded moments later. "Go back in. Go on. I'll be fine." 

She shook her head stubbornly. "No. You're coming with me." 

"I want to be out here to think." His eyes narrowed. "What part of that don't you understand?" 

She glared, as well. "Well, excuse me, I actually understand exactly what you're saying. But I'm telling you," she added haughtily, "standing out here, hoping to get struck down, is not the way to go about thinking!" 

"You're crazy!" he shouted, grabbing her wrists and yanking them away from the collar area of his robes. "You're bloody crazy!" 

He was surprised to see tears glazed within her eyes, or maybe it was just the rain and his mind was playing tricks on him. He wasn't sure about which, so he just shrugged it mentally off. "Remus!" 

"What!?" 

"Come with me back inside, damnit!" Now he was positive there were tears streaming down her cheeks. She withdrew her wrists from his now loosened grip, shaking her head, wiping furiously at her eyes. "Goddamnit! Now you've made me cry!" 

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "We can't be friends." He let his eyes open halfway, just to see her reaction, which he somehow needed very much, as if testing his strength of will. 

Silent sobs racked her shoulders, and she looked up, staring directly into his eyes, hair plastered to her face now, much in the same way his was. "Then come inside with me. Don't be a fool, Remus." 

Sighing, he shook his head, sending droplets of water scattering into the air before blending in with the rest of the rain. The sight of her tore at his heart—when had he allowed himself to get this close to someone? Especially a girl? Once she knew the truth about him. . .

Giving in to momentary sympathy towards the Gryffindor, he grabbed her arms, pulling her to him, and patted her back. "Jess, you don't. . ." he began, trying not to choke on his words, trying to force himself to say this calmly and carefully. "You just don't understand, alright?" 

"Remus, you don't get it." She fisted handfuls of his second-class robes, crying into his chest, slumping against him for support. "I want to be your friend. You can't just tell me we're not friends anymore without telling me why!" 

He nodded, pushing her back a little, looking down at her face as she sniffled up at him. "I can't," he breathed. Tears formed at the back of his eyes, burning, but he kept them back. He needed to do this. "I can't." 

"Remmy," she whispered, calling him by her nickname for him, and just hearing it grabbed at his heart, as if icy hands were holding it while other icy hands stabbed into it with the sharpest knives. "Please. Please. Tell me why. Come inside with me." 

"If I go inside with you, will you leave me alone?" he hollered above a particularly loud peal of thunder, forcing his words to come out harsh, cruel. 

"Yes." She sniffled, trying to hide the hurt in her eyes, yet failing terribly at it. "Yes. Okay? Will you just go inside now? You don't need to get sick!" 

He nodded, conceding. "Yes, all right." 

"One thing." She sniffled again. When he nodded once more, she went on. "Just tell me you hate me. Go ahead." 

"Jess—" Already he was shaking his head, but she cut him off. 

"_Tell me_." 

He stared firmly into her eyes, gripping her by her shaking shoulders, and said as coldly as he could manage at the moment without choking up on his words, "I hate you." 

She nodded slowly, swallowing, taking a few steps back. Pressing her lips inward, as if forcing back another barrage of tears, she turned and ran towards Hogwarts, wondering why she had even came out there in the first place. 

Remus stood watching her go, gasping for breath from all the hollering he had done—he had been pretty weak as of late—and just slumped to his knees, bowing his head, a single tear falling slowly down his cheek. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Jess! I was looking all over for you! Where have you been!? Whoa. . .You're soaking wet! Huh, why do you look like that? I mean, er, your expression!" Lily paused, taking in the sight of her friend, then sighed. "What's wrong?" she prompted simply. 

Tears were streaming down the girl's cheeks, her hair was a total mess, and she was shivering, but Lily knew it wasn't only from the chill of being wet from the rain. 

"R-Remus. . ." Jessica broke off, bowing her head, hugging herself tightly. 

"O-Oh. . .Yeah. . .I'm getting the understanding here. . ." Lily nodded slowly, trying to lighten up the mood, the tension, but she only burst into more tears. _Great going, Lils_. _Just bloody great_. She rolled her eyes heavenward, sighing, then reached out, drawing her friend into an embrace, not minding the immediate water that soaked through her own clothing. _Lord, oh, Lord, I never was good at these kind of things_. 

"H-He doesn't want to be my friend!" she sobbed, gripping her best friend tightly. "H-He said h-he. . ." She swallowed, then the last two words burst out before she began sobbing even harder, "hates me!" 

"Remus?" A frown creased Lily's lips as she narrowed her eyes, patting the girl's back comfortingly. "That doesn't really seem like something Lupin would do." In her mind she was already formulating a plan to beat the crap out of the introverted, sort of anti-social Moony. 

Jessica paused in her crying, sniffling, letting out a last, shuddering sob, and looked up—well, rather down. "I know. But he did." Her eyes watered up again, and she broke into more sobs. Lily said, "Oh," hugging her again, and let the girl continue. "I don't understand why he doesn't want to be my friend. He wouldn't even tell me!" 

"Yes, well. . ." The only thing that came to mind was rather. . .blunt, but she didn't care. "He's a Marauder." 

Jessica couldn't help but laugh through her tears. "A M-Marauder. Yeah, in a lot of ways, you're right." 

Lily sniffed, shrugging slightly. "Yes, well, aren't I always?" _When I get my fists on you, Lupin, heh heh, we'll see who's not right_. _It won't be me!_

"Lily, you're grinning in a way that I think I might have to agree with Sirius about you being a she-devil." 

Lily frowned. "You know, I don't know where he gets that. I don't think I'm a she-devil at all." 

Jessica smiled faintly. "So why were you looking for me?" 

Lily took a long, good look at her friend, decided that inside she was still hurting but didn't want to talk about it. And Lily guessed she understood that. Sighing, she replied, "Britt said you have some kind of necklace that your grandmother gave you before she died. . .?"

The girl frowned. "Lils. . ." She sighed. "Yes, why?" 

Lily's blood immediately froze in her veins, and she could tell her face turned a ghostly white, but she forced a tight smile. She grabbed Jessica's arm, dragging her over to the wall, whispering lowly, so softly that the latter had to strain to hear. "Don't let _anyone _know about that necklace. No one. Understand?" 

"I. . ." Voice faltering, she nodded. "S-Sure. . ." She paused. "Lils, what's wrong?" 

Keeping her face an emotionless mask, she replied, "Nothing. Nothing at all." Clearing her throat, she said, "Could you tell me what the necklace looks like?" 

"A star surrounded by five diamonds at each point. . .Why?" 

Lily shrugged. "Just wondering. Anyways, I've got to head to the library." 

"Um, alright." 

"And beat the shit out of Lupin when I find him," she added under her breath, turning to walk away.

"What was that, Lils?" Jessica's voice called to her back, sounding confused.

Lily stiffened, then laughed weakly. "The library. Got to look up something." She turned a little, gave a wave, then rushed off before Jessica could say anything else. She needed to look up that necklace.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Talk about getting almost run over! Lily didn't think she had met so much rampaging bookworms in her life. 

She shifted to the side as a black blur went past her, and she blanched when as she did so she accidentally knocked the book out of the poor boy's hands. Old, yellow papers went flying everywhere, causing the boy to scowl and shake his fist at her. 

"Yikes," she muttered, then rolled her eyes, stuck her fists in her pockets, and hurried to the back section of the room. 

Sighing, Lily began to examine each and every book on the shelves, not really knowing where to look first, but knowing she had to start somewhere. The library was _huge_. And there were tons of thick, dusty books all over the place. 

"Mm." In concentration, she tilted her head a little to the side. "Come on, there has to be a book on some sort of necklaces around here somewhere. . ." 

Just then, two voices reached her ears. 

Two very familiar voices. 

Two voices that caused her adrenaline to automatically start pumping. Two voices that caused her fists to curl, her emerald eyes to flash. 

"I thought you said you were sleeping, Mr. Potter." 

"Couldn't." A grumble she didn't catch, then a laugh from the first voice. "The Plan keeps on bothering me. We have to start immediately, Mr. Black." 

Turning on her foot rather harshly, but managing to keep the scuffle it made quiet, she slipped behind them without a sound, holding her breath and listening. 

James laughed, as well, placing his fist on his hip, and inclined his head towards his companion, Sirius. "After all, The Plan must be gone through with to where we can get her back!" 

Sirius scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. "That girl is a she-devil! That girl is going to be the death of us some day, because all she does is beat us up! That girl has the most horrible temper there ever was and ever will be!" His voice was raising as he went. "That girl gives men everywhere a bad name! That _girl_—"

"Is standing right behind you."

Sirius jumped. "Back, demon, back!" he called, making a cross with his hands.

Lily rolled her eyes. "I am not a demon, nor a she-devil, and if you call me that one more time, you will be in serious pain."

James flashed a look at Sirius. "I see what you mean," he told his friend calmly.

Lily raised her eyebrows dangerously, then asked the boys, "What 'plan'?"

James suddenly looked very nervous and uncomfortable. "Um. . .nothing. . .what plan? I don't know what plan you're talking about. . ."

Lily sighed impatiently. "The one you were talking about a second ago."

"You thought I was talking about a plan?" James asked, still sounding very nervous. "I wasn't talking about a plan, I was talking about a pan! Yeah!" he exclaimed, suddenly realizing what he had picked from the top of his mind could be made into perfect sense. "A pan for my History of Magic project!"

Lily rolled her eyes and muttered, "Whatever." She made a move, as if to walk away, then stopped again and turned to look at James, asking, "What's with Remus? Jessica told me he said he hated her."

Sirius and James exchanged puzzled looks, then turned back to Lily again. "What are you talking about?" they asked in unison. "Moony is perfectly in love with her." 

Lily looked at them both steadily, as if trying to make sure they weren't tricking her, then told the boys, "That's not what Jessica said. She came in here crying and soaking wet, and when I asked her what was wrong, she said that Remus had said he not only wanted to be her friend, but hated her as well."

James and Sirius looked at each other in surprise. "He never told us he was going to do that," James said slowly.

"Yeah," Sirius chimed in. "Actually, just last night we could hear him muttering in his sleep about how he didn't want to hurt her."

Lily rolled her eyes. "How idiotic can you two get?" 

"Pretty idiotic. . .Hey, wait a minute!" both boys cried indignantly, huffing up. 

Lily started sniggering to herself. "God, you two are just too easy," she sighed.

They pouted. 

"Are you three?" 

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but James elbowed him in the stomach, promptly shutting him up. 

Lily shook her head. "Just forget it. You two carry no good information whatsoever." And with a stomp to both their feet, she hurried out of the library, deciding she could look later when she didn't feel like she was going to scratch their eyes out and strangle them in their sleep. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


End file.
